


Fast on the Draw

by rivkat



Category: Dark Angel, Supernatural
Genre: Crossover, F/M, heat!fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-07-12
Updated: 2011-07-12
Packaged: 2017-10-21 07:16:20
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 551
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/222374
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rivkat/pseuds/rivkat
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Prompt: Max Guevara in heat. Dean Winchester's attractive and conveniently located.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Fast on the Draw

**Author's Note:**

  * For [EllieMurasaki](https://archiveofourown.org/users/EllieMurasaki/gifts).



> Is this really the first Max/Dean fic on the archive? How is that so?

“You’re in _what_?” Dean said, scrabbling to reload while Max undulated against him.

“Heat,” Max repeated.

“Doesn’t the sexual imperative usually yield to mortal danger?” Sam called out from his position across the hall, before firing a couple of rounds to discourage the ghouls from approaching.

“What can I say, Manticore tampered with the course of nature,” Max got out, managing to get her hand on Dean’s very interested cock through his jeans.

Dean panted and his hips pulsed, but he fumbled another round into his shotgun. “Jesus, it was easier when we just hunted anything that wasn’t human.” He grabbed her wrist, and she could’ve kept her hand in place but she let him move her; men were more likely to do what you wanted when they thought they were in control. “Listen, you seem like a nice cat-girl and all—” he fired, and the ghoul fell back. “And it’s not like I haven’t hooked up in stranger places, or with a girl who’d been drinkin’ some, but—” another blast, and he had to let her go to reload.

She could’ve gone for his zipper, but so far he’d struck her as the kind of guy who thought that his dick defined sex, and she really needed to clear her head and was not inclined to further argument (even, maybe especially, in heat Max didn’t think she ought to have to work that hard), so: “Use your hands,” she suggested. “You get me off—” yeah, words she never would’ve said without the haze of heat, but, desperate times—“and I’ll handle the shotgun.”

Dean’s expression made her think that all the dirty lines he might have used in response had collided and caused his brain to crash—honestly, the freaky resemblance to Alec did not end with the pretty face—but when she opened her own pants, pushed them down past her hips, and leaned over, he got with the program damn fast.

“Seriously!?” Sam yelled. He couldn’t see them from his position, but she was probably making some noise. Dean managed to shove the shotgun into her hand, and she had to use it right as he slid two fingers inside her. The ghoul’s head flew apart and Dean’s thumb stroked over her clit.

She came so fast she didn’t even need to fire the second barrel until she was trembling with the aftershocks. Dean looked at his wet fingers like he wanted to take the time to lick them clean—and okay, maybe she’d try him again when the ghoul attack was over, because she could already tell that this wasn’t going to hold her for very long—but regretfully wiped his hand on his jeans and grabbed another couple of shells out of his bandolier.

“Get ready to fall back and torch the building!” she yelled at Sam across the hall. “We can move now!”

“Speak for yourself,” Dean grumbled, adjusting himself, and she spared him a quick smirk. Dean was kind of a jerk, yeah, but on a scale of one to Alec he wasn’t so bad. They’d gotten everyone else out alive, and the Winchesters had proven themselves remarkably useful, for normals, in fighting the breeding cult’s latest attempt to wipe out the transgenics.

She charged into the hallway, alive and kicking, and Dean followed.


End file.
